Back in Barca

Almost five years ago to the day I was racing around Barcelona trying to find an apartment, finally finding one with three Argentinians. My memories of Barcelona were very vivid, I spent the first three months looking for a job, finally giving up. In the meantime I spent many hours walking the streets from our 6th floor flat in the southern suburb of Sants-Montjuic to the Rambla in the centre, where the gym was located next door to Sarah's university. There is also the Mercat Boqueria which holds a huge variety of fruits, veg, meats, spices and pickles, in which I spent hours each week picking out the best bargains to supply us with food for another week on my tiny budget (about $30 a week to spend after rent).

Arriving back here was like going back in time, virtually nothing has changed. If I was observant enough to remember the chewing gum spots I'm sure they would all also be identical. The two main changes are the prices, which have jumped since the introduction of the euro - what used to cost AUD$5 now costs 5 euros. But maybe that is pretty close to normal inflation levels anyway.

The other thing that has changed is the eyes with which I am looking at this city now. When I first came here I'd never lived in a big city - Brisbane was the biggest. I didn't know the smells and nuances of big city life and I really didn't like it at all. I missed the cleanliness and orderliness of Australia, where everything is signposted and you always know what is going on.

Five years later and some travel and experience in another heaving capital under my belt and I have a totally different feeling about Barcelona now. The Spaniards have the same personable and genuine approach to life that the South Americans had, something that I think we miss out on in the English speaking world with our veneer of politeness and professionalism that keeps our societies running smoothly. Happy faces everyone.

Barcelona is a beautiful city, with beautiful people and intriguing little 'Carrers' shooting off most streets. The Barri Gotic would take years to explore. And anyone who has read the Shadow of the Wind can imagine the Book Graveyard lurking down a narrow lane behind a small sunken wooden door.

My only complaint about the city is that it has become another one of those Ibiza-type holiday destinations. Holiday makers from Europe and the US flock here over summer to sun bake topless on the beaches and try their luck with the opposite sex in the multitude of clubs that are being promoted constantly, with the aid of the vast quantities of drugs they are trying to sell you as you walk down the Rambla at night. Everyone also speaks English which is another disappointment, a) because I was looking forward to speaking more Spanish and b) because language can be such an effective barrier to keep tedious holiday-makers away.

But Gini's friend Sniper arrives tomorrow and we will say farewell to Western Europe with a night of Sangria fuelled fun at La Oveja Negra, the favourite bar from the old days. And then I am off to Athens on Sunday to finally see Heather. The last night of free internet, so more updates from Athens where I will, in my most Socratic style, have my fist firmly planted on my forehead in deep contemplation of the considered life. Will also try and get some pics up from Barca soon.